And then we got bored. Six missions after Apollo 11 amazed the world by going to the moon, Apollo 17 was the last trip. It fell off the cultural radar. And the miracle of the internet, which connects billions of people, instantly, is something we all take for granted after less than a generation. Is that a habit? Heading.

Simply sharing my craziness and hoping its infectious enough to spread. And They Say I Am Changing The World. On the way to visit one of my schools, As I sat back on my rickshaw enjoying the wind playing with my hair; The man pulling me towards my destination wiped the sweat from his brows. And they say, I am changing the world.

Musings on this crazy, wonderful life. Taking our daughter to college. Subject- 5 minute stretches for working women. Subject- Safety concerns in Libya. Subject- Your appt reminder! August 14, 2015.

Chasing dragonfly dreams while passing notes to my dear muse. The prompt for day 6 was to write a things-not-as-they appear poem. Is where he spends most evenings. Distorting images beneath blinding lights. A balancing act from a cannon. Made of sickly sweet cotton candy. Spin the wheel and aim straight. While the knife slices through the. Flower bouquet between her teeth. Fickle as a pickle,.

Musings of an Indian Muslim Feminist. I am very impressed with his quick responsiveness and can only hope that most men begin to intervene in such situations where the victim is voiceless for any darn reason.

Where words go to die. To be disgusted by society. Everyone looking for an instant fix. That will fuck for fun. Yet I want more than this. Sure men are the same. Looking for the next place. I want more than simple skin. I watch them use the words. That they do not understand. And fuck me for being who I am. The wind is blowing through the graves.

Should I have noticed the bug earlier? Jenifer was resting her forehead on the wooden bench that lies vacant now and she was trying to slit her wrist using the topaz blade I kept on my geometry box. I thought she was toying with the blade.

Each line of this terse, tense prose poem is melancholy and evocative, driving the reader toward a chillingly unexpected denouement. She could barely open her eyes,. And faintly could she recollect. The smell of medicines, and the view,. Confirmed that she was in a hospital. Suddenly struck the reality,. She chose the bridal .